Complicated
by DocumenteKaze232111
Summary: "I can't take this anymore." In the aftermath of the Misham case, Prosecutor Klavier Gavin has all but abandoned himself. Now, in the midst of a deadly case in which law-keepers are the victims of a brutal serial killer, can Detective Ema Skye pull him away from the engulfing darkness before it is too late? Klema. Song-fic. Rated for dark themes. Part 2 of 3 Currently Posted.
1. Control

**Author's Note**

_Welcome one, welcome all! I know that this is becoming a rather unhealthy obsession for me recently, but I find that writing one-shots rather than not writing anything at all pleases my lovely little readers. Now, this one has a bit of a story to it (not quite unlike "Of Thieves and Photographs") so, if you are disinterested in what I have to say, feel free to skip it. For those who are interested, I am a frequent visitor to my local "Goodwill" market, because they always seem to have something that makes me smile. I came across a CD that I could not help purchasing (yes, a CD! Please make note that your author is very prehistoric when it comes to electronics) because it was such a blast from my past- Avril Lavigne's "Let Go" album. I listened to it, and the second track, "Complicated", instantly gave me the idea for this (rather long) one-shot of fluffy and thoughtful interactions. Now, I do not own the album, nor the song or singer. The pairing in this Fanfiction is, of course, Klavier G.\Ema S., more commonly known as "Klema". Lastly, I would like to warn my readers that this story is a bit different than the rest of my stories- starting with the way I change POVs. It is likely a little confusing, but I do hope my readers enjoy, regardless._

**Keep Reading, Writing, and Reviewing,**

**Serah**

_**COMPLICATED**_

_**Uh huh, life's like this-**_

_**Uh huh, uh huh,**_

_**That's the way it is...**_

_Don't lose control. Don't lose control. Don't... _

This he chanted to himself as he placed the final documents and other odd objects into his guitar case. It- very much like its owner, lived a double life, secondly as a case for an instrument, and firstly as a container of important case evidence- Prosecutor Klavier Gavin chanted those three words over and over again within his head. Despite his best efforts, however, he was shaking.

_Don't lose control._

He grasped the handle of his guitar case and went to pick it up- only to find that it was too heavy for him to lift. Not one to give up too easily, though, he took a deep breath and hoisted it over his shoulder like always. Somehow, the familiar weight felt alien, as though he were just a boy again, picking up a guitar and its case for the very first time. Stepping out from the Prosecution's bench, he looked up to find the Defendant's bench looming over him, as though glaring at him. His stomach clenched tightly, but he forced himself away, turning on his heel and walking confidently (at least, he hoped he looked so) through courtroom.

_Don't lose control._

As was custom, the gallery sat patiently (or, perhaps, restlessly?) in their seats whilst both he and his victorious opponent, Apollo Justice- _Herr Forehead_- readied their things and disappeared. While Apollo had left minutes before beaming like a ray of sunshine, Klavier was certain his light was dim enough that the gallery could feel the intensity of his darkness, which explained why two or three of them felt the need to scoot away from him when he passed them.

_Don't lose control. Don't lose control. Don't lose- ..._

He opened the door leading into the Prosecutors' quarters, only to find what seemed his double waiting for him. His arms were crossed, and he looked all the more disturbing, now that his perfect smile was in place and his expression wiped free of anything but calm. His eyes, though, those impossibly blue eyes that they shared, which marked the two as brothers- they were what shocked, and perhaps frightened him, the most.

_ ...Control._

_**'Cause life's like this-**_

_**Uh huh, uh huh...**_

_**That's the way it is.**_

It was not every day a Prosecutor had to be placed under protective services after a trial reached its conclusion- let alone a Prosecutor who could, admittedly, defend and look after himself. _However,_ Detective Ema Skye reasoned as she approached the door leading into the courthouse Prosecutors' quarters_, It wasn't every day that Prosecutor, who just so happens to be an international rock-god, blows his top. _

And that, really, was what stumped her. The glimmerous fop she knew showed basically three emotions- cheerful, flirtatious, and the (_very_) occasional bit of intelligence mixed in for good measure. He had no room for anger- the closest emotion he had ever shown to that effect was mild annoyance, and that was over the fact his best friend had been found a murderer.

The glimmerous fop of a boss she knew was rarely fazed, and even more rarely taken by surprise. But here she was, under orders to see to it that Prosecutor Gavin was not mobbed by journalists or rabid fans, and to ensure that, under no circumstances, he did not return to the office. It was for the safety of everyone in the building- including Gavin himself.

_If only it were that easy._

She opened the door to the Prosecutors' quarters to find her boss shoved forcefully- and painfully, it looked like- against the opposite wall, by what seemed his twin. He did not even seem to be fighting back, while his older brother continued to press against him. Ema noticed that the guards who were supposed to be- well, guarding- their prisoner were nowhere to be seen. She assumed that the two had been ordered from the room by the Prosecutor, so the two brothers could have a nice little chat by themselves, before the elder brother was taken back into custody.

What idiots. Anyone who saw the trial would know these two would have to hate each other by now. Ema did what came naturally to any Detective happening upon a crime (Her thought process of the fact was that Kristoph seemed to be trying to choke his brother, and attempted murder is a crime, despite whatever Kristoph believed) and pulled out her police-issued weapon.

"Gavin!" Two pairs of impossibly blue eyes instantly rounded on her.

_**Chill out, what are you yellin' for? **_

_**Lay back, it's all been done before-**_

Klavier stared at his brother for a few seconds, slowly taking in his pretense. He opened his mouth to say something- anything- but nothing came out. He watched as Kristoph tiled his head upward; a clear message that he still, despite anything, thought himself above his "baby" brother.

Klavier felt his hands curling into fists, and without thinking, the Prosecutor motioned to the waiting guards to leave the room. The ensuing conversation was meant to be brother-to-brother. _Not that the title means anything to either of us anymore._ The guards, after glancing uncertainly at one another, as though silently questioning Klavier's sanity, disappeared from the room.

_"What were you thinking?" _

Both brothers had spoken at the exact same time, as soon as the door leading to the outside world had closed. Each stared at each other apprehensively, as if neither could think of an appropriate response to the question. After another few seconds' waiting, they each answered.

_"You betrayed me."_

"I betrayed you?" The words had passed Klavier's lips before he could stop them, laden with disbelief. He felt the bitterness weighing on his heart again- so heavy, he felt as if his back could give out at any moment. "You lied to me- you were the one who betrayed me, Kristoph."

Kristoph's answer only strengthened the weight on his back. "I should not have trusted you," He said, deliberately avoiding replying to Klavier's all-too-weak accusation, shaking his head instead, as if in disgust with his younger brother. "You have disappointed me. Not, of course," He added, smirking that infernal, demeaning smile that made Klavier feel as though he were ten years old again, living under that same infernal roof as his elder brother, "That I am surprised, brother."

"I am not your brother," Klavier replied defiantly, holding his brothers' surprised impossibly blue eyes with his own, steadily, "The bond was broken the moment I found out you had lied to me. It meant nothing to you then, it should mean nothing to you now." The weight became slightly less- only just, but it did lighten- as he spoke.

While he was contemplating this, Klavier wasn't expecting Kristoph to lunge at him, pinning his arm against his throat and holding him against the wall behind him. He was smirking that same smirk from before. His glasses were askew on his nose, and suddenly, he was the demon from before, the one Klavier had seen on the witnesses' stand inside the courtroom.

Kristoph leaned forward until his mouth not even an inch away from Klavier's ear, and he whispered, "Whether you like it or not, we are more alike than you can possibly imagine. Mere words cannot sever that connection. You will always be my baby brother."

An icy chill was sent down the base of his spine, causing him to shiver slightly. Kristoph was right- _Goddamn us both, Kristoph is always right_- but despite the sinking in his heart and stomach, Klavier knew he could not let his brother win this argument.

Regaining himself only very slowly, taking a deep breath, and steeling his nerves, he began to open his mouth, but before Klavier could order his brother away from him, a voice, fierce, stern, and decidedly extremely familiar echoed through the room, surprising and shocking both brothers alike.

"Gavin!"

_**And if you could only let it be...**_

Ema was nothing if not dangerous when she was being completely serious. It was a trait she had taken from her elder sister, Lana. Since becoming a Detective herself, the ability had served her well during investigations with over-zealous Defense Attorneys, interrogations with testy suspects, and working under a certain glimmerous fop.

Kristoph Gavin really stood no chance against her, and even he admitted the fact when he surrendered himself quietly. Ema and Klavier, stood side-by-side while the man was taken back into custody by his guards, who the Detective had summoned after cuffing the criminal herself.

So, considering all that, it was with complete and utterly deserved confidence that she, after ensuring he was uninjured- _Because I do care_- that she crossed her arms and declared to her boss, "You are not going back to the office, Gavin. Chief's orders."

"I was not planning on it," Was his instant, almost cold reply. Stunned into silence, she could only watch as Klavier picked up his guitar case_- Which, according to office gossip, he used to carry important documents and evidence for all his court cases, as well as his favorite guitar_- and swung it over his shoulder. He took a pair of dark sunglasses out of his violet jacket pocket and placed them over his eyes, very effectively shielding his eyes from Ema's flabbergasted stare.

"I suggest you take the back way out," He said, turning his back on her carelessly and making his way toward the door through which Ema had previously entered, "Otherwise, you may find yourself mobbed by the media. Good day, Fräulein Skye."

And then he was- so suddenly- gone.

_**You will see...**_

_Time to entertain the public._ Klavier raised his hand in farewell, sending a few smiles here and there for good measure. He received flashes and photography and mostly feminine shrieks in return. Too bad none of them realize that is all this is- a show.

Pointedly ignoring the barrage of questions being sent his way by a sea of reporters, each talking over the other and each asking a far more ridiculous question than the last-

_"How do you feel about your brother now?"_ **(Brother? What brother? I have no brothers.)**

_"Do you think your brother is guilty?"_ **(Of course he is.) **

_"Will his mistakes affect your career?"_ **(Why would they?)**

_"Will you prosecute the case against your older brother?"_ **(It would be too easy a win.)**

"_How will this development affect the Gavinners?"_ **(We are finished anyway.)**

_"Will you ever forgive your brother for using you_?" **(No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know.)**

Keeping these ill-tempered, uncharacteristic answers to himself, he simply threw a leg over the seat of his violet motorcycle- _My hog,_ he liked to playfully call it- and revved up the engines.

He threw a wave behind his back, and, hearing the appreciative fan-girls and the sighs of disappointment from the reporters, he was off into the wind.

_**I like you the way you are-**_

_**When we're drivin' in your car;**_

_**And you're talking to me one on one...**_

Ema had gone home herself after the conversation- Well, more like confrontation- in the Prosecutors' quarters. She did not think she could handle the drama that was undoubtedly unfolding at work right now- all those grown men (and women) running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to make sense of the trial that had just reached its conclusion. More likely, she would have to deal with it herself- being Gavin's subordinate and all- tomorrow. _But not today. Today I make sense of it all in the privacy of my own apartment. _

Which, she assumed, her boss would also be doing. She had no doubt that the guy would drag himself into work tomorrow, despite the all-too-obvious blow he had taken in court. _Who would have thought that Kristoph Gavin planned, committed, and concealed all of those crimes? Who would have thought he would have the gall to use his own little brother in those plans? Certainly not Klavier himself. _

It seems her boss had been telling the truth when he said he, too, had not fully understood what had happened during the Gramayre trial, seven years ago. _Looks like I'll have to apologize_, She thought glumly, _I hadn't believed him until now._

A year since she had confronted him about the circumstances concerning Mr. Phoenix Wright's disbarment, and she still hadn't forgotten the look on his expression- the hurt in his impossibly blue eyes- when she told him so herself.

And now, it haunted her.

_**But you've become... **_

He had not gone back to his apartment as he had all but promised to Detective Skye. He had, to his credit, planned to do exactly that, but it seems the reporters and fan-girls, each with their own agenda, seemed to work in sections- one enormous sect outside the courthouse, and another enormous sect outside his building.

So Klavier changed course. Instead of his apartment, he went to a place he had not gone to since the LeTouse case, which had reached its conclusion in the arrest of an ex-band-member (and his ex-best friend) Daryan Crescend. It was a secluded little place, fitted down with everything he needed to ensure he went unnoticed- soundproof walls and a place in which to store whatever vehicle he arrived in (as either of his modes of transportation, his shiny violet motorcycle and his black sports vehicle tended to attract attention.)

It had once served as the Gavineers personal retreat- a way to escape the prying eyes of the world, since Klavier had come across, and eventually bought the rights to, the nothing-so-special, rundown building a few miles outside of town. On the outside, it was a farmhouse fit for tearing down. On the inside, a perfect studio for a rock-band to practice, have fun, and be themselves. It was someplace the four of them could feel at home, somewhere to feel welcome.

And somehow, it worked.

Klavier entered the building using a key he kept hidden in his jacket pocket for this very occasion. He locked it behind him, and for a moment, he just stood still, enjoying the silence that came with being completely alone in secluded building miles away from civilization. Silence was not something he usually enjoyed- but at the moment, it was exactly what he needed.

After the moment had passed and he became himself again, he took off his guitar case, relieving himself of the oddly unfamiliar weight, and, crossing the room, placed it on one of the couches. Sitting down himself, he closed his eyes and leaned back into the cushions, sighing heavily as his brother's words reverberated through his mind once again. He chose to confront them now, rather than later- now he was alone, and later, he could certainly assure himself that he would not be. Better to release these haunted memories now. Alone.

_"I should not have trusted you." _

Had Kristoph trusted him? It certainly seemed so, the way he had all but depended on Klavier to keep silent about their meeting seven years prior, just before the Gramayre trial. His refusal to allow his brother to walk freely away, however, and his acknowledgement of the truth, had caused Kristoph's ultimate downfall.

Could he forgive Kristoph for trusting him?

Could he forgive himself for letting Kristoph down?

_"You have disappointed me. Not, of course, that I am surprised, brother."_

Klavier was not surprised himself. Always the disappointment, always the black sheep- whatever name he took on, whatever his accomplishments, whether it be twelve albums going platinum as soon as they hit the shelves, whether it be a triumph in finding the truth in the courtroom, there was always that same voice, that annoying little voice in the back of his head, telling him to _be better_, telling him he is _not good enough_, telling him that no matter what path he took, _he was wrong._

Frankly, he was tired of it. Like he had told Herr Forehead, mere hours ago now- _I'm tired of the youthful angst scene._ It was not him, and if there was anything he hated, it would have to be someone who pretended to be something he or she was not. But he pretended anyway.

"Whether you like it or not, we are more alike than you can possibly imagine. Mere words cannot sever that connection. You will always be my baby brother."

Klavier used to wish to be as cool, calm, collected, intelligent, responsible, clean, handsome, powerful, strong, generous, kind, hard-working, funny, bold, adventurous, daring, mysterious, skillful, sharp, trustworthy, useful, fearless, polite... Just fill in the blank with whatever you wish, and Klavier had at one time wished he was just like Kristoph in that regard.

But as much as Klavier hated himself for it, he was pretending to be something he wasn't- and as much as he hated it- hated it with every fiber of his being- he was Kristoph Gavin's baby brother.

And that was what haunted him.

_**Somebody else, 'round everyone else-**_

_**You're watching your back like you can't relax…**_

For the very first time since she had met her boss, Ema found herself knocking on his office door for a reason other than something related to their work. Her knocking was firm, but rather quick and hurried, shaky, even, and she knew better than to tell herself it was more than just the jitters (which she could never really shake anyway, whenever she was around the man.)

He was leaving.

_No, no, not forever, just for a few weeks_, Ema reassured herself, flinching away (again) from the very idea that her boss was actually disappearing from her life forever, _A month, that's what they told me_- they, as in the top brass of the Prosecutors in the city. She had also been told (by a rather flamboyant and hair-challenged Prosecutor) that they had even promoted Gavin in the wake of his victory in court, as he had "demonstrated qualities they liked".

_What these coveted qualities were, I didn't know, and couldn't really even guess._

The door opened while she was contemplating all this, and whatever thoughts she was thinking before his quiet appearance before her were immediately taken away from her as she took in... Well, his appearance.

_What the hell is he wearing?_

Gone were the casual blue jeans, replaced by what looked like specialized (and rather expensive) jet-black, shiny leather pants, from which a bunch of chains hung. Gone was the casual purple jacket he wore, replaced by a leather black jacket from which even more chains hung. The only things that was left of his former appearance was his gaudy, sparkling 'G' necklace, hanging from his neck, and his (thankfully, colorfully purple) sunglasses, which, instead of being perched on his head as usual, were masking his impossibly blue eyes. Another tiny flicker of normality came with the guitar case on his back, but even that bad been dyed a grim black, instead of its warm violet. It looked as though he were just about to leave.

"I need to talk to you," Ema blurted out, causing the man to raise his eyebrows.

"I can see that," He replied, smirking his usual smile, making his expression seem much younger than he really was, and causing Ema's heart to sink just a bit. Her heart probably met the gastric acid in her stomach when he, instead of teasing her about her request, tilted his head toward the inside of his office. "Let's make this quick, ja? I have a plane to catch, Detective."

Where the hell did this attitude come from?

"So, what is it you needed to talk to me about?" Klavier asked her as soon as the door had closed, shutting out the rest of the world. He was not smiling, and that, along with the fact that he had instantly sprung upon the point of the meeting, startled Ema, who brought to attention the very first thing that came to her mind.

"You were promoted to Senior Prosecutor."

Klavier said nothing for exactly sixty seconds (sixty exactly, because Ema counted each moment that he remained silent.) During this minute, he adjusted the sunglasses on his nose, eerily reminding Ema of his elder brother.

"Fräulein Skye," He finally said, leaning against his desk in a way that made Ema feel as though he was actually trying to mock her, "I know of the promotion." He said promotion the same way he would say criminal. "Now, tell me, what is the real reason you asked for my attention? And please," He added, his smirk deepening just slightly, "Do not try to brush the question off. I know when people are lying to me. It is my job, after all."

_What the hell is he trying to prove by acting like this?_

_**You're tryin' to be cool-**_

_**You look like a fool to me-**_

_**Tell me...**_

Really, he should have been an actor. He had so much practice at holding back his emotions from the world at large that playing any part given to him in the career would have been child's play. It was so easy to go around acting like the world was beneath him, so easy to alienate those who counted themselves as his friends. _It is so easy to fool them._

That was his thought process before Detective Ema Skye approached him.

"I- I wanted to ask you something." The Detective replied, after a short pause, in which a flash of irritation crossed her expression. She likely thought he had not seen it, so quick as it was, and Klavier had to physically fight himself to keep the budding smile away from his lips.

_Why is it so hard to act around her?_ "Ja?" He asked casually, although his heart had instantly flinched back at the hesitance in her voice. _Her, of all people... Hesitating, because of me._ The every thought made his stomach turn upside down, but his sudden discomfort did not show in his demeanor, kept perfectly- _perfectly_- aligned. _Perfectly calm_. "What is it?"

Shaking her head, she burst out, loudly and angrily, "Are you leaving for good?"

Klavier let his smirk- that god-awful, superior smirk- drop off his expression in shock. _For good? Does she actually want that?_ Keeping his thoughts to himself, he merely shrugged his shoulders coyly, replacing his smirk with an equally as revolting frown.

"I do not think it is any of your business, Detective."

_**Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?**_

_**I see the way you're acting like you're somebody else,**_

_**Gets me frustrated!**_

Ema was sure that her expression had the look of someone who had just been slapped straight across the face. That is what it felt like, anyway- what with the sting she suddenly felt. The sting, however curiously, though, ached not in her cheek, but in her chest. Staring at the man in utter shock, Ema would not be surprised if her jaw had disconnected from her skull and had dropped to the floor.

_"I do not think it is any of your business, Detective."_

It was not the words that stung her, really. She had actually expected him to answer that way- Seriously, it's none of my business, really- but it was the way he said the words that had hurt her; so cold, distant, formal- again, she was reminded of his elder brother.

And it frankly pissed her off. His attitude, his charade- his goddamn clothes, for Gods' sake- Ema felt her hand raise (not that she was actually planning on slapping the man, right?... _Right?_) and suddenly found her arm inside the grip of her boss, holding it tightly, as though it were a weapon he wanted to avoid… Or, perhaps, a lifeline.

"Detective," He said coolly, "Weren't you ever taught that hitting people isn't nice?"

Ema's reply was as sharp as nails, and it took both of them by surprise. "Weren't you taught that acting like an asshole isn't nice?"

_**Life's like this...**_

_"Weren't you taught that acting like an asshole isn't nice?"_

As Klavier stared at Ema in surprise, she tried clawing her way from his grip. After a particularly sharp jab at his wrist- which he was sure broke the skin- he let her wrist go.

He avoided her blazing gaze by checking his wrist for damage. As he had suspected, she had broken through the skin- a single bead of blood had appeared. He was more surprised than offended at the sight. "Is that," He spoke, asking quietly, "What you truly think of me?"

"I didn't used to," Ema snapped back at him, "Before you were actually pretty cool!"

_**You, you fall and you crawl and you break;**_

_**And you take what you get and you turn it into honesty-**_

_**You promised me I'm never gonna find you fake it...**_

_"Before you were actually pretty cool!" _

The words were out before she could stop them, but when she really thought about it, why should she not tell the truth? It was true, after all- the Klavier Gavin she had come to know was cool, in ever single sense of the word. _Cool,_ the man who played guitar instead of writing paperwork by day, but would stay until after midnight to complete it when no one was around. _Cool_, in court, while nothing ever phased him. _Cool,_ like his songs. Cool, a friend to her, instead of her boss.

But now he had suddenly soured, as if he had become someone else. And she continued, quietly, when it became clear the man was too shocked- _Or maybe too scared?- _to reply, "You just couldn't keep it up, could you, Gavin? I just knew you couldn't- that stupid smile, all those stupid jokes- that's why I came up here in the first goddamn place, to make sure you didn't leave for good."

If Klavier had looked shocked before, it was nothing compared to what he looked like now- now he looked dumbfounded. "That I... Did not leave for good?"

" I guess I wasted my time, though," She shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck, smiling a bitter smile, "You haven't gotten on the plane, but you're already-"

Air suddenly whipped passed her, and she yelped in shock, stumbling backward. She caught herself from falling completely down, though, and as soon as she regained her balance, she realized exactly what had just happened.

Klavier, with all his sudden darkness, had fled the room.

_**No, no, no...**_

_"You haven't gotten on the plane, but you're already- "_

He drowned out whatever else Ema was intending to say. Normally, he would not condone that sort of action from himself, but this was- _This_ _is too much, too much too soon._ Overcome with that thought- the thought that he was about to explode- he stood himself straight quickly, almost falling over in his haste to get away. Ema did not seem to notice the movements…

But she must have noticed him when he bolted out the door, likely throwing her off balance by his sheer speed. He very nearly ran over two other people in his haste to leave the building; a woman on the stairs, wearing a red scarf around her neck, even though it was the middle of the summer, and a man with silver hair, stormy eyes, and what seemed a napkin tucked into his pink suit.

Then he was outside. But he was not alone, considering the mob of reporters and media personnel that had gathered at the front of the building. _Da- _

He had not even the time needed to begin to curse his stupidity when he was assaulted- literally and figuratively- by the same mob of people that called themselves his fans. His friends. His family.

_What does that word even mean?_

Those words were like a spark in his mind, and it was then that he realized something- something so simple, he had to laugh bitterly as he pushed his way past the suddenly very quiet crowd. That laugh- it sounded so familiar, even to his own ears- it sounded mad, crazed with his burst of emotions- emotions that he had bottled up since before he could remember, and now that he had shattered, were spilling out.

Cameras clicked.

Videos rolled.

The world was watching.

And he spoke.

"I can't do this anymore."

**Author's Note**

_For my sanity and for yours, I have decided to cut this into two parts._

**Keep Reading, Writing, and Reviewing,**

**Serah**


	2. Darkness

_**COMPLICATED**_

"I can't do this anymore."

After his shocking statement to the world at large, Klavier Gavin had disappeared. Not a soul was told just where he had gone, even though rumors had it that he had gone abroad. However, although the man seemed hell-bent on keeping himself out of the spotlight- at least for the time being- his actions were still plastered on the front covers of newspapers and magazines that month.

The very first of which was disbanding the Gavinners.

The news had reached Ema Skye from the mouth of another Detective, who had an ear for office gossip. She had reacted with grace- _Well, it's about time!_- but really, she was worried. Running off to a deserted corner of the Earth was one thing, but disbanding the Gavinners? Disbanding the Gavinners, the band in which he had been front man for several, popular years? The Gavinners, who had rose from the ground up in Berlin, Germany?

Crazy… But maybe not as crazy as his next venture, which was to cut off his hair.

The ex-musician now sported the cut he had donned seven years ago, in his court debut against the legendary Defense Attorney Phoenix Wright in the now infamous Gramayre trial. According to popular rumors, Klavier had turned up in some dingy little town somewhere North of Nowhere and South of Important and had a random stylist cut his trademarked "unicorn horn" off- the only stipulation of which was that the stylist was not allowed to tell anybody just who Klavier was until he was gone.

And by the time the man did say something, the man had vanished from the face of the Earth once more, with only the whispers of rumors to confirm that he indeed still walked the world. Some had, in his absence, written him off as dead- but Ema knew somewhere, the moment she had heard the rumors, that he was. She could feel it deep within her.

Continuing to the point, it had been completely crazy and out-of-character for the man, but then something bigger and much more mysterious happened, and it took every single person in the entire world by surprise- including Ema, who was actually one of the very first to know of the phenomena. This was the event Ema would never be able to fully understand, and never would Klavier explain himself fully, even after years of countless questioningly and proddings from fans, from international affairs, from friends, and even from Ema herself.

After a month of absence from the Prosecutor's building, the wayward man himself turned up inside his office one early morning, deeply immersed in some random murder case file, wearing his normal clothes, complete with his signature purple jacket. There were two enormous differences behind this Prosecutor, and it was a difference that was a mark- a scar, perhaps?- of a changed man.

The first was the absence of his guitar, replaced by a very unobtrusive dark brown briefcase.

The second was the absence of his smile, replaced by what seemed an irreversible frown.

_**You come over unannounced-**_

_Of everything he could have lost, he lost two of the few things I actually liked about him- his bright music and his even brighter smile._ A thoughtful Ema was crouched in front of a body- _Lovely way to wake up in the morning-_ of a victim who had been found by a couple on a morning stroll. It was rather small body, which led Ema to believe that he could not be more than a few years old.

_Murders like this give me the creeps._ Ema stood up and dusted herself off, looking at the battered body- Apparently beaten to death- with pity. The kid probably didn't even stand a chance against whoever it is who murdered him.

"A shame, isn't it?"

Ema jumped a couple feet in the air, the hair on the back of her neck standing straight as she bristled in shock. She spun around, and immediately regretted reacting as she did when she came face-to-face with the not-so-glimmerous fop of a boss.

It had been almost two months since his all-together random reappearance at the Prosecutor's Building, and he had not become any warmer with time- in fact, he seemed to become colder and colder with every passing day. She hated every single moment she had to spend in his presence (she hated life a lot recently) because he had that same dark look in his eyes. It reminded her of the man's brother- who was recently sentenced to death by a very unanimous jury- and it reminded her, every single day, of the man who ran out on her two months ago.

Klavier did not react to her movements- _Which doesn't exactly surprise me_- and instead walked a step in front of her and knelt at the side of the victim. He had his infernal dark sunglasses on, so she could not see his impossibly blue eyes, but his expression was darker than Ema had ever seen it. It sent cold shivers down her spine, as though she had been dipped in below freezing water. _I've never seen him so serious,_ Ema thought, biting her lip, adding mentally, _Or so emotionless…_

"So young. He could have been something someday- but now, taken before he had his chance," While he spoke, Klavier stood up and, bowing his head, still staring at their lifeless victim, began to snap his fingers with a beat that Ema knew instantly was not one of his original tunes. The melody was slow…rhythmic. Sad. "There's a song in that, but definitely not a happy one..."

_He's the only guy I know who can make snapping fingers sound depressing,_ Ema thought bemusement. Clearing her throat- feeling extremely awkward, she said to the still-mumbling Prosecutor, "Mr. Gavin, we think we've found the murder weapon. It's a- "

"A bat, I know." Klavier interrupted her, startling her once again. "I was told by another Detective," He nodded his head towards a Detective on the other side of the highway- the crime scene was located at a not-so-busy interstate leading outside of the city- who wore a long green trench coat and bore a bandage on his cheek. "I do not think, however, that this is murder."

Before Ema could respond, that same Detective waved, and Ema, too taken aback with the man to make a reply, pretended not to hear Klavier and waved back.

When she turned back around, just a few seconds later, Klavier had disappeared just as quietly as he had come, and, somewhere behind her again, she heard the purring of a certain motorcycle, brought to life by its wayward owner.

Well, Ema mused, turning around and watching that purple demon machine speed away in an impressive cloud of dirt and dust, At least he still has his motorcycle.

_**Dressed up like you're somethin' else...**_

It was against his better judgment that he included Ema in his interrogation of their suspect. Every fiber of his being rejected the idea- but then, he had no other choice. A Detective on his roster had to be present for each and every one of his interrogations, and no one- _Not a single man or woman- else had been available._ So, he had called her in that evening, but had refused her entry into the room itself, asking- _Or rather, ordering her_- to stay inside the connected watch-room, to watch he and the suspect through the looking glass.

She had not been happy with the arrangement, but something- perhaps his expression, or maybe the tone of his voice- had ensured her absolute cooperation. She had certainly not argued with him after he had his say in the matter, after all…

_I am not too sure how I feel about that._

And so it was that Prosecutor Klavier Gavin walked into the interrogation room alone.

_**Where you are ain't where it's at-**_

It had been an accident, after all. Apparently, the boy and some of his friends had been playing on that interstate road at the time of the crime, and little Johnny Pint had been caught unaware by a passing car. All this (and more) was revealed in the interrogation of his friends- who, of course, had their parents present, as not one of them were over ten years of age.

And, being so young, one of the kids- a nine-year-old boy by the name of Bobby Cupps, at the end of his tearful interrogation before an emotionless Prosecutor Gavin, asked the ex-musician, "Hey, Mr. Gavin?" The boy asked him , beaming with innocence, "Do y'think I can get your autograph? I mean, I've grown up listenin' to your music, and you're really cool! Please?"

Ema had expected, despite everything, Klavier to smile for the first time in months and agree to the request of the shiny-eyed boy, who looked the entire world like a kid looking up at a superhero. She expected him to suddenly revert back to his old self.

But he, once again, surprised her.

"I do not give autographs," He told the boy, almost harshly. Ema's eyes widened almost comically as she stared at the Prosecutor, who seemed almost disgusted with the very thought of complying with the boy's innocent request of him. She continued to watch the scene unfold, her heart twisting painfully, even though Klavier had given her the order to cut the feed.

If the boy looked crushed by his answer, he and his parents (the woman of the couple having been excited an hour before to meet a famous rock-star, even though he had long since quit the music scene) were further horrified when he continued, not sparing the boy a glance as he turned away, "Take my advice, kid," He said, his voice devoid of any and all emotions, negative or otherwise- "Idols or superheroes of any kind do not exist, and even if they did, in the end, you are better off without them. Find someone real to look up to. I am certainly not that someone."

And then he was gone, out the door without offering even an apology.

Ema turned off the microphone into the room behind the glass a few moments later, repulsed by the sounds of the crying little boy. She stood up, and, suddenly decided, bolted out of the room in search of the man who had all but shattered the heart of an innocent little kid…

…Only to find that he had, once again, disappeared.

_**Take off all your preppy clothes...**_

He had taken his jacket off. He had done so out of his whim than anything, but feeling the chilly air made Klavier glad that he had done so. He had fled the interrogation room hours before, and was a bit surprised that Ema had not stalked him like a shark to bite his head off for what he had said to the young boy, who had witnessed the bloody death of a close friend and been denied a keepsake from his hero, all in just under forty-eight hours.

"Idols and superheroes do not exist, and even they did, in the end, you are better off without them. Find something real to look up to, because I certainly am not."

As though he had shouted them in a deep cavern, or screamed them on the highest of mountains, his words echoed through his mind like roaches would scurry away from patches of bright sunlight. They were cold, cruel, angry... Every single emotion a child should not be exposed to, those words were.

And Klavier had spoken them to be the truth.

_An idea that I have stood for, that I have supported, and lost so much for- is this I have fought so hard for- that I have gone through so much for? Teachings that no longer matter to me, a career that I no longer love, friends I no longer want, and a family that has abandoned me- all of that for "__**truth**__"? For "__**justice**__"? For "__**peace**__"? It all seems so cliché, now that I think about it... One man- no, one __**boy**__ can't make a difference. One boy doesn't even matter, in the real scheme of things… The majorities rules, and screw the minority- that is the real "__**truth**__" of the world. Anyone who says otherwise is fooling themselves…_

His doubts surfaced moments later, following his angry thoughts like milk after cookies.

…_Do I really believe all that?_

Klavier numbly fell against his window. He pulled off his sunglasses and thrust them away, listening to the creaking and the snapping and cracking of plastic and glass lenses as they hit his uncharacteristically tidy carpet. He looked at the broken glass, feeling absolutely no inclination to pick up the possibly hazardous material.

_Is all I have done until now, _He thought, placing a hand over his eyes, _A complete, utter waste of my life?_

Slowly standing back up, weakly, Klavier put his briefcase down on his desk with far more force than necessary, resounding in a loud bang that echoed through his office. He privately thanked himself for ensuring that his walls were soundproof_._

_This way, no one will come thundering inside if I ever lose control over myself. None of these people deserve to see that…_ Not that he had lost control all that often the past two months. The only other time his emotions had gotten the better of him were a few weeks ago, the very moment Kristoph had been sentenced to death. He had simply stood and walked out of the courtroom, in full view of the gallery and his smirking elder brother.

His brother, who had been sentenced to hang from the gallows in less than a year.

Amazingly, not a single reporter had the guts to ask him about it- to ask him how he felt, how he was, if he was going to appeal the case (even though the entire world knew very well that nothing could be done to save them now.) It was something that both amused him and unsettled him.

It amused him because the reporters were now leaving him very much alone.

It unsettled him because the reporters were avoiding his name as they once avoided Kristoph.

They had found Kristoph too cold and too quiet to dare approach him for questions and interviews, and now, they found Klavier so unstable and so angry that they actually took caution and avoided talking to him altogether. He had not found a single camera stalking him lately.

He was blissfully alone.

It was deafeningly quiet.

He was agonizingly numb to the world.

His soundproof walls ensured that when the thunderous sounds of shattering and splintering glass- louder than the loudest gunshot and more frightening than a screaming siren- pierced the still air of his office, nobody in the outside world noticed.

_**You see you're making me laugh out,**_

_**When you strike your pose...**_

**KILLER ON THE LOOSE IN L.A. AREA – LAW-KEEPERS IN DANGER**

**After the startling death of the Lead Prosecutor of a brutal string of deaths involving law-enforcement officials, Senior Prosecutor Klavier Gavin (28) has agreed to take over the case, despite the great threat of danger to his own life. Refusing to comment on the matter, Gavin left the scene of the press conference as soon as he was able, leaving Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth to take up the mantle for the young Prosecutor.**

"_**Gavin,**_**" Says Edgeworth firmly, when questioned by our reporters, "Is qualified for the task of prosecuting this case." The Chief refused to name other investigators on the case, only that, "**_**A team has been assembled to deal with [the case].**_**"**

**Prosecutor Gavin, the younger brother of Defense Attorney turned serial killer Kristoph Gavin, recently sentenced to death by a trial jury, has refused to stay in the public eye since early October, and refused to speak to reporters regarding this matter when contacted last night.**

**Chief of Police Lana Skye, however, disagreed with Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth, stating to the press in a later conference, "**_**I do not agree with the decision to place this case under the care of Prosecutor Gavin,"**_** She said, "**_**He is much too young and inexperienced for the job. I fear he may be way over his head.**_**" When asked which Prosecutor she would rather see in the young wayward senior's stead, she simply replied, without hesitation, "**_**The Chief Prosecutor himself**_**."**

**In a clash of ideals, Miles Edgeworth simply responded to the Chief of Police's call to action with that devilish, trademarked smirk of his. "**_**I will speak to him**_**."**

"So this is what you wanted to show me, huh, sis?" Ema sighed deeply, shaking her head with bemusement as she tossed the newspaper to the side, "That Gavin's going to get himself hurt- or worse. I don't know what to do with the guy. I'm this close," Ema exaggerated pinching her fingers together, much to Lana's bemusement, "To just quitting on him."

Her threat was, however, only half-baked, and her elder sister saw right through it. "No, you aren't," She told her sternly, not about to allow her little sister to lie outright to her, "And at this point in time, doing so would certainly spell out his downfall."

Ema's expression went from flippant to worry at once. Despite the fact the man had been a complete jackass lately, she still found herself caring for the man who used to be her friend. "What do you mean, Lana?"

Lana met Ema's eyes. "I mean," She said simply, "That he has become fearless."

_**You know you're not fooling anyone,**_

_**When you've become...**_

_**Tell me...**_

_**I see the way you're acting like you're somebody else…**_

Klavier rarely associated himself with the Chief Prosecutor, so it stood to reason that he was surprised when he found the man waiting for him just outside of his office that early morning. "Herr Edgeworth," He said, more out of his surprise than a greeting, "What brings you here so early?"

Miles replied calmly, "The case you are currently working." His answer caused Klavier to raise his eyebrows critically. There was some odd emotion in his silver eyes- though Klavier could not quite identify it, "It is dangerous- very dangerous, as I am sure you have been told, countless times. You are surely, even at this moment, receiving threats from our killer, are you not?"

The young Senior Prosecutor simply nodded.

Miles crossed his arms in what seemed a patient manner. "It is my personal belief that you are unsuited for this kind of case. If you would agree, I would like you to transfer it into my care."

"Out of the question," Klavier answered, instantly becoming disinterested in whatever the other Prosecutor had to say. He stepped forward, intending on passing Miles and going on with his business, but a sudden, firm hand, gripping his shoulder, forced him to stop short. He mentally sighed, realizing that he was not going to get away with side-stepping the older Prosecutor and avoiding this conversation altogether.

"You may be a Senior Prosecutor," Miles told him sternly, his silver eyes flashing in the type of worry that only came in honest sincerity, "But this case is way over your head. You could be killed," He added, that same emotion from before flickering in his stormy eyes. Klavier recognized it now- it was worry. Worry for him. That- _This,_ He thought, this I am unused to. _Why is he so concerned? What is there for him to be gained?... What is he after?_

"The suspect in this case is beyond your level of skill," Miles continued, tapping his arm in what seemed to be an almost nervous tick. "Mr. Gavin, I do not wish you any disrespect, but your safety is my main priority. You are in grave danger, and I- "

Klavier jerked his shoulder out of the others' grip. "Your main priority should be the _capture of the suspect_, Chief Prosecutor," He replied angrily, struggling to restrain the fury in his voice, "Not my supposed _safety_." His words were frozen with icy distrust as he continued, "I can take care of myself- I am not a child."

The reply was altogether unexpected.

"You certainly have been acting like one."

Klavier was too surprised to hide his shocked expression. "_Was_?" He questioned the other man, who was regarding him with composed amusement, "What exactly do you mean by that?

"Did you really think your co-workers and I would not notice your behavior the past few months? It is quite obvious," He added, ever calmly, seeing Klavier's expression instantly go from shocked back to icy within moments, "That something is very, very wrong. This case will do nothing but ruin whatever little sense of balance you have regained since the indictment."

Whether it is the reminder of his elder brother's looming death sentence or the other man's attitude, Klavier responded coldly. "I am not turning over this case, Herr Edgeworth."

Miles regarded him with due respect, but something in his eyes told Klavier that his (admittedly brazen) decision would certainly come back to haunt him. "I am not above offering my help to you, Mr. Gavin," He said, crossing his arms, obviously referring to the indictment and sentence of Kristoph Gavin, "The appeal trial is only a few days away, and I can certainly- "

"Kristoph is guilty," Klavier replied scathingly, narrowing his dark, impossibly blue eyes, his expression suddenly so frighteningly calm that Miles instantly balked, the words dying in his throat, even as he formed them, "And he deserves whatever sentence given to him. I will not interfere, Herr Edgeworth, and neither will any of my colleagues. That will result in my interference, which will ultimately cost many good men their badges."

The unconcealed threat caused Miles to grit his teeth in frustration.

"He is your brother."

Klavier chuckled humorlessly. The laugh was an echo of its former cheer, now darkened by a long-nursed pain he could no longer find the strength to hide. He shook himself from the other man's grip and turned away from him, from the brief companionship his presence offered.

"I have no brother," Klavier told the Chief Prosecutor, whose silver eyes instantly adverted at his cold words, "He died a long time ago. And besides, Herr Edgeworth," He added as an afterthought, chuckling again as he walked away from the man, "I am not afraid of the danger. Why allow some other man to take this case, when I am here, ready and willing to lay down my life?"

_**Somebody else 'round everyone else-**_

_**You're watchin' your back like you can't relax- **_

_**You're tryin' to be cool...**_

_**You look like a fool to me-**_

"Klavier, please," Ema was actually quite proud of herself. She (for the first time in what felt like a long while) laying down her pride and ego to try and convince her disagreeable boss to give the case away. A serial killer, with an inhumane disposition toward law-enforcement officials trying to catch him- it spelled '_stop, or you're dead_!' and 'danger, can't you read?' and '_death, it's all over'_ all over in scarlet blood, but for some reason, the man would hear nothing of it.

"I will hear nothing of the subject," He told her, waving her away like some bothersome fly, "If you are uncomfortable placing yourself in harm's way, I will have you removed from the case."

"You don't have to take me off the case!" Ema snarled at the Prosecutor, whose impassive, impossibly blue eyes shot up to meet hers in surprise at her sudden flare of temper, "Because I'm done! I quit! Do you hear me- I'm done! You're insufferable! You think you can do this all alone? You want to die? Fine! You just leave me out of it!"

Then she marched out of his office and into the waiting arms of her elder sister.

_**Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?**_

_**Gets me frustrated…**_

**The Ultimate List of Ways to Kill Your Boss**

_Has your boss been grating on your nerves? Has he cut your paycheck, made you stay in later hours, work through holidays, stolen your lunchbox- done anything, anything at all, to make you regret your choice in a career?_

_If so, you've come to the right web-page!_

_Here, we'll give you 6- that's right, 6!- perfect ideas on how to kill your boss. This list, while it may get you life in prison or on death row (or perhaps an insanity ward) is the ultimate guide of how to take out that pesky boss of yours before he\she takes you out!_

**Shoot the bastard\bitch in the head.**

_(Preferably with a double-barreled shotgun, after luring him\her into some kind of deserted ally- it's a rather messy way to go._

**2. Feed him\her lots of ice-cream.**

_(Death by brain-freeze. Bonus points if they are picky about their weight. Disclaimer: this won't actually work.)_

**3. If he\she likes music, steal their IPod and turn up the volume all the way.**

_(If he\she can't hear you laughing, he\she won't be able to fire you for laughing. Disclaimer: this will not actually kill him\her; but it will be funny as hell to watch.)_

**4. Push him\her out of the window in his office.**

_(Make sure it's high enough from the ground to snuff him\her out. If it's not, make damn sure it's April Fools Day. You just might avoid prosecution that way.)_

**5. Bomb his office.**

_(A hell of a way to go, but hey, if he\she likes being dramatic, at least they're going out with the ultimate bang!)_

**6. Feed them McDonalds.**

_(If you're lucky, the investigators will think it was an accidental poisoning.)_

This really was not a healthy way to spend her Saturday morning.

Try as she might, though, Ema found that she could not close the random web-page she had stumbled onto whilst looking at the news feed, provided to her by her desktop. She chortled and laughed at the ridiculous suggestions, not bothering to try and stop from seeing herself actually doing these things. She never would, of course, but still, the guy got on her nerves… Especially since that drama yesterday evening. Her sister had dragged her home after that, demanding that she "recover from her shock". That's Lana, Ema found herself chuckling again, Worrying over me as usual.

Who would worry over him, if something happened?

The thought had come to her unbidden, and she froze, staring at the computer screen without really seeing it as her thoughts continued. _He's basically alone now- disowned Kristoph and disbanned the Gavinners; who would even notice if he became sick, or hurt?_

_Me._

These were not thoughts she wanted to be having. He was not her responsibility- And do I really owe the guy anything? He's been an asshole ever since that whole thing with his brother-

_But is it really his fault?_ That annoying voice in her head was back, and gracefully, fairly, gently contradicting her every negative thought about Klavier Gavin. _He lost his best friend and his brother (the latter twice in the span of months!) in a very, very public manner. The entire world sees him as some kind of tragic hero- but is that what he is?_

_No. What he is, is hurting._

Ema growled to herself and shut the computer down, suddenly disgusted with the website. _I can't relax with that damn fop being the way he is,_ She told the voice inside of her head _(Boy, does that sound crazy, or what?) He's going to be the death of me. _It was true, too- each and every time she caught the slightest glimpse of the Prosecutor, her heart would either leap into her throat or take a nose-dive into her stomach. Either way, the feeling was not at all comfortable; and, obviously, she had been dealing with the feeling ever since she started working with the man.

He had just made it a million times worse by going off and getting all dark and closed off. _Stupid, self-destructive, angry, quiet fop._ And this case he was stubbornly taking on was just another situation in which he was disregarding himself and his needs. _Damn it, Gavin- why can't you take grief like a normal person and just- I don't know- shovel food into that mouth of yours?!_

While she was contemplating this, her phone rang, piercing the still air and screeching with some unimportant message. She took her time taking the thing off the charger and flipping though her contacts to find whoever it was that sent her the thing in the first place. Gritting her teeth, she thought, as she opened the message, Whatever _it is, it'd better be important_.

The world went on with its business as the color drained out of her face.

**Author's Note**

_Cliffhanger! Yes, I seriously am cutting this again, as I have reached five-thousand words once again. Next time we will reach our epic conclusion, I swear by it by everything I am worth (if only because I am running out of song stanzas to write for.) Now, I understand that this update came far later than expected, but as I am currently swamped with schoolwork from my Senior year of high school, and am dealing with the onslaught of boys who suddenly realize I was alive, yes, I think I am entitled to have abandoned my writing for a little while. Fear not, though, my muse is guilt-tripping me into writing again, and so, expect another update in just a few days, not only to "Complicated", but to "The Life and Times of Klavier Gavin" (which may or may not pause at this point, considering the time it takes to write just a single chapter) and the conclusion of "The Power of Words" as well. Thank you for taking the time to read this, and please, continue to do so._

**Keep Reading, Writing, and Reviewing,**

**Serah**


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